


Underfell Beginnings

by yupimgross



Category: Underfell - Fandom, Undertale, Undertale AU - Fandom
Genre: Body Horror, Child Abuse, Gen, Neglect, Suicide, Underfell, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-03
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-19 20:46:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7376770
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yupimgross/pseuds/yupimgross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Lab of Underfell is dark and foreboding. The monsters there kept to themselves, kept from getting too attached to those that they met. Anything could happen down here. Anything went, so long as it was to serve His Highness and the great push for Monsterkind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have a ton of unfinished stories, but I had a great and terrible compulsion to write this story, so that's what I did.
> 
> I did not intend for this to be Fontcest (as they are too young in this part of the story to really feel such things yet anyways.) But you can interpret it as you will.

 

 

Bright lights beamed overhead, lighting long hallways, pristine and white with the smell of acrid chemicals, chokingly disturbing yet pleasant at the same time.

Subject 01 knew these halls like the back of his hand.

 

The Royal Scientist led him, clutching his clipboard to his chest like some precious tome. His coat swished behind him as he walked, the cleanliness, the pureness of the garment something that always made Subject 01 inexplicably angry. Every time he met someone in such garb it always meant something bad for him. No exceptions.

Just like now.

 

Dr. W.D. Gaster led them past the normal testing areas, down and down the long halls, through doors 01 had never been through.

 

This part of the lab was a bit darker, the air holding a lingering scent of staleness that made 01 both curious and on-edge. Open rooms lined the walls, the only way you’d know they were separate from one another was the bars that lined them. He had seen similar things in books when he was permitted learning time: cages. They weren’t exactly like cages, but he had a feeling that they were for a similar purpose.

 

His nervous tendencies started to show: sweat beaded his brow, his bones shook, his soul pounded in his chest. What were they doing here? Where _was_ here even?

The bars of the rooms looked cold and strong, and he had a sinking feeling that if trapped inside, he’d never be able to get himself out.

 

 

 **We have arrived.** The doctor signed with his hands, pointing to one of the cage-rooms.

 

The small skeleton peered around Gaster to see what was so special about this particular room. There didn’t appear to be anything noticeable-

 

He gasped, and jumped back from his already shot-nerves. There, in the darkest corner of the cage, hunched a figure. Barely visible, the only thing that would alert someone to the being’s existence were two faintly glowing, red eyes.

 

01 whipped his skull up to Gaster, fear crawling up his spine. “what the fuck is that thing?!”

Gaster sighed. **Subject 02. I need you to get it acclimated to social interactions.**

01 looked in at the creature inside, a faint rattling could be heard from within. The creature within continued to stare, flicking between the two strangers in its midst as they talked.

Once 01 looked back at him, Gaster continued, **The social aspect of this is not nearly as important as you getting it to eat. If it does not eat, it will turn to dust. All other attempts have been…unsuccessful.**

 

01 balked at the plea for assistance. “why the fuck should I help you?” He crossed his arms, a smug look of satisfaction on his face.

 

The doctor seemed a bit surprised, but it was hard to tell if he’d really shown emotion or if 01 had just imagined it. **You are weary and weak, and that is not lost on me, I know. Subject 02 is meant to take on some of the testing once it reaches maturity. It is hardier, stronger, and shows great promise.**

 

01 flashed a look into the cage, and felt a strange mixture of pity and for some odd reason…jealousy. Turning back to Gaster, the scientist continued, **The faster it becomes healthy the faster it will grow, and the sooner you can…share the burden.**

 

01 liked the sound of that. If this rattling sack of shit was going to lighten the pain and suffering he was put through day in and day out then he was all for it! He’d been through enough shit.

 

Gaster opened the locked cage door, and upon doing so, the creature in the corner loosed a horrendous hiss, bones rattling louder and stronger than before.

01 lost his boldness at the terrifying sound, and halted in his tracks. But after a “gentle” shove from the scientist behind him, he was forced inside and locked in with the creature.

Gaster snapped his fingers, drawing 01’s attention back to him. **I will be back with food a little later. For now, let it get accustomed to your presence.**

 

 “w-what?! you’re gonna leave me alone with it?!” Gaster turned and left without another word, uncaring of whatever he had to say. 01 wrapped his hands about the bars, screaming after the scientist. “hey! don’t leave me here! fuck you, old man! fuck you to _goddamn hell!_ ”

After the doors at the end of the hall closed, he whipped back around, staring down the glaring eyes in the corner of the room. The rattles picked up in sound, another shrill hiss accompanying it.

01 stayed still, watching the mass move lightly, pressing itself as far into the corner as it could.

 

“h-hey...” He gulped, not really sure how the hell he was supposed to let it get “accustomed” to him.

 

The creature’s eyes widened before narrowing, a low growl resonating from the dark.

 

“can you talk?” He asked, and then signed the same question, thinking maybe it was like Gaster.

 

However, 02 continued to stare mutely, the rattles still clicking and clanking against the bars it pressed itself against.

 

 

Gaster had test monsters, like himself, though they were lesser creatures, ones that couldn’t speak, couldn’t think for themselves. Maybe this was one of them? But if it _was_ a test monster, then why would Gaster care if it died of hunger?

Sighing, Subject 01 sat down on the floor and leaned against the door. He just didn’t know. Gaster never told him shit, despite him being intelligent enough to understand. Gaster had taught him, trained him, basically hand-raised him, thinking maybe he could become a good representation of a _real_ monster.

01 wasn’t a real monster. He was just a piece of one. He knew that. Gaster had carved out a nice little bit of his own soul, and grown him like a goddamn flower. Apparently he’d forgotten to water him daily, though, cause even with all the “special attention” he received, he still turned out to be stunted and weak.

 

As for this Subject 02…

Rattles still clinked and clanked in the dark, those eyes unblinking, unmoving, trained on him like a fucking wild animal.

01 didn’t know what this creature was.

But the thing was stupid. Couldn’t even talk. And knowing some of Gaster’s other attempts at creating “real” monsters, this thing was probably horribly disfigured. Probably could hardly hold itself together.

 

01 knew he was making a lot of assumptions, but he was too tired to sit here and play staring contests all goddamn day. Getting as comfy as he could on the floor, he decided to just let himself relax a bit while Gaster was gone. He had been put through a lot lately, and his bones and soul ached fiercely. He grinned at the eyes watching him from the dark, “heh, pretty soon you’re gonna know what it’s like, asshole.”

 

 

He didn’t even remember falling asleep. In fact, he didn’t know how he was able to, but he must have, for he dreamed.

His mind wandered through strange places he’d never seen, most likely conjured from the books he’d read. Fields of flowers, a wide expanse of water that you could not drink, the sun in the sky by day and the stars at night. He knew all of the constellations. He read over the books about stars and the planets so many times that Gaster took them away from him. It had become an “unhealthy obsession” as he’d said.

But in his dreams he could see them, high up in the heavens, just out of reach.

 

As he stood in the star-blessed field looking up at the sky, a strange tug at his conscious made him look about the darkness. Once a relief to be out of the humming, bright lights of the lab, he now felt something other than relief: fear. The stars seemed to snuff out, one by one. He was left alone in the dark.

But not for long.

 

What lie within the depths of that eternal blackness was something that chilled him to the marrow.

A pair of glowing, red eyes.

 

 

01 gasped awake with a cry, stirring a flurry of motion at the sound. A flash of cloth and he thought he caught sight of something off-white, but other than that he could not tell.

Rattling, once devoid a few seconds ago started up again, red eyes leering from the corner once more.

 

It was the only thing that hinted at what had happened.

 

Had 02 been over here by him?! What the fuck had it _done_?!

Frantic, he made to get up to check himself over when he felt something on his lap. His eyes widened as he saw a balled up wad of red cloth.

 

Raising a brow, he stared at it in confusion. He hadn’t seen the thing before. And Gaster sure as hell wouldn’t have put it there. Placing a hand onto the soft though worn fabric, 02 in its corner shrieked in sudden upset, making him flinch and retract his hand.

 

Huh. That had been strange…

Watching the other monster, he placed his hand to it again and the creature’s intimidating cry broke into a whine. A strange reaction indeed.

 

01 narrowed his sockets. “what? is this yours?” He grabbed it with both hands, turning it over in his grasp, trying to figure out just what the hell it _was_. He tugged at one of the trailing, frayed ends of the cloth, but quickly stopped as the other subject loosed a tiny, sniffling wail. It wasn’t what 01 had expected, and it made him pause. For some reason, 01 kind of felt bad about causing the monster cry out in such a way. It sounded really…upset. Even the eyes in the dark watched with a sadness that made him choke.

Looking over the raggedy cloth, he suddenly thought of something he’d seen before in one of the picture-books he’d looked over. It was about a monster that had a fluffy object in the shape of a bear monster, called a teddy bear. The whole story was about him being sad from losing it, and then happy when he found it. Gaster said that the moral was rubbish, and was nothing but “emotional mind-rot”.

 

He turned over the bunched-up cloth in his hands. It wasn’t a teddy bear, hell, it wasn’t remotely shaped like anything as far as he could tell. But it looked well worn, and clearly the creature did at least hold onto it, for it still was warm from being clutched close to the soul. The sniffles from the corner made him think of the monster child in the book, and he briefly wondered how old 02 was. Maybe he and the monster child and the book were similar?

An idea came to mind, and getting to his knees, he made his way forward. Maybe he would stop crying if he got the rag back. Rattles and choked hisses abounded as he got close, but he pressed on, determined now to test his hypothesis.

 

 

The angry eyes turned fearful as he continued, the rattling changing its tune to shivering horror. It pressed itself as far into its little corner as it could go, whining and whimpering, trying to make itself smaller.

God, it made 01 feel awful seeing it like that. “h-hey,” He tried to soothe. “i’m not gonna hurt ya.” Gently, he held the rag-toy out to the creature, far enough to make it need to come forward, but close enough to be enticing all the same.

 

 

He sat there a while, the rattling clinks slowing into a calmer, less cacophonous tinkle.

Carefully, gingerly, the eyes came closer, clicks and clacks upon the cold floor announcing its approach.

 

01 held his breath, afraid to breathe for fear of scaring it away.

Closer.

And closer.

 

A hand reached out, slowly grabbing hold of the offered item.

01’s eyes widened at the small, withered, skeletal hand that grasped at the cloth. He gave a tiny gasp in horror, and the creature loosed a small shriek, snatching back its rag and scuttling back to its corner of safety.

 

It was…like him. Like Subject 01. It was a skeleton too! He sat there on his knees, his bliss falling in his chest as he looked over the shivering mass of bones. Surely very tiny, very poor bones from the way its hand had looked.

 Why was it like that?

 

A clinging knock upon the bars behind him made him turn to see Gaster, holding two bowls of food.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

 

He took the bowls from Gaster without a word, too stunned at first to really think. He just kept seeing the hand over and over in his skull. So small and frail…

 

Gaster snapped his fingers with a scowl, clearly he had been trying to get his attention for some time. He signed, **You will be staying there for the night. I think it will help build up 02’s openness.**

 

Normally, 01 might have been angry about staying the night in the cage, locked in a room with a crazy monster that had a rag as a toy.

But…

Thinking back on earlier, 02 had been sleeping next to him when he woke up…hadn’t it? Why else would it have had its toy in his lap? Looking over his shoulder at the surely very weak and very small skeleton, he looked up at Gaster warily, “is it a child?”

 

Gaster paused a moment, holding 01’s gaze before he finally responded with, **It is young.**

 

01 felt a surge of anger as he thought back on the hand he’d seen. “really young, huh? sort of like a _child_?”

 

Gaster flinched, his brows knitting and nasal ridge scrunching in a rare display of emotion. **It is _not_ a child. It is a manifestation of _myself_. As are _you_. ** He pointed a damning finger at 01, and it only served to make the subject angrier.

 

It didn’t seem right to him. None of this ever seemed right to him, but somehow, that tiny hand just made this seem so much worse than everything else. “so what if it’s a “part of you” or whatever. why the hell is it in here?” He motioned to the cage-room. “why is it back here in the dark with nobody else? why would you do this to something so young?” His bones began to rattle of their own volition, the rage building in his soul to suddenly be brought forth from what he had witnessed. “this is fucking _wrong._ why the hell would you hurt something so small-”

He stopped mid-sentence as he felt something lightly touch the back of his smock. 01 turned to see a small skeleton jump at being seen, but otherwise did not run as before. Sunken sockets, bruised with lack of sleep, lined red from earlier tears stared at him. Thin, brittle bones flaking and all but falling apart from malnourishment and lack of light made up the creature that was Subject 02.

01's rattles calmed as tears welled up in his eyes, not from the poorness of the monster, but from the small smile on its face and the red rag it held out to him expectantly. Wanting to share its only comfort with him.

 

He took it with a sniff, not sure how to react.

 

 

Gaster watched them with interest, the spark of fascination in his eyes enough to make Subject 01’s marrow churn. **02 seems to be capable of social interaction after all. And it seemed to be at least somewhat trusting of you.** He eyed the monster shivering behind 01 with interest. **Now, get it to eat something. I’ll check on you both tomorrow.**

With that, Gaster left, seemingly unaffected by the soul-breaking condition of the small part of himself. Though, 01 thought, he probably didn’t have enough of himself to care about anything.

 

But 01 was not done with Gaster. His inexplicable anger continued to boil. “you never told me why they were back here.” 01 growled after him.

 

To his surprise, Gaster stopped, eyeing him with an odd glint behind his spectacles. **Mistakes were made in the past. And I had hoped it would keep Subject 02 from becoming so…aware.**

Though not directly said, 01 couldn’t help but feel the comment was directed at him. A shiver tingled up his spine at the weight of it.

Finished speaking, Gaster went on his way, feet echoing in the hallway until it was swallowed up by silence.

 

 

Slowly, he turned round to look at Subject 02, and felt his weary soul warm at the young one’s uncertain, though trusting, smile. “heh, just you and me now, kid.” He handed the rag toy back, and the child hugged it close, seeming thankful for its safe return.

 

 

Taking a seat on the floor, he chuckled in amusement as 02 tried to copy the way he sat, eager to try something new. The red eyes, though tired, sparked with a kind of life 01 had never seen before. It gave him a grand feeling of hope. Though, now that the kid was out of the darkness, he could see that he was far worse off than he thought.

 

Little flakes of bone covered the skeleton child’s smock, his appendages almost taking on a “fluffy” look from their prominence.

01 scooted closer and reached out a hand to touch him.

 

02’s eyes took on that hard, primal glint as before, his sharp teeth parting with a small, short hiss in warning.

 

Instead of pressing on, he merely sat with his arm outstretched, seeing if the child would accustom as he had before.

 

 

The glare that 02 gave him softened, slowly turning curious. Those same small, frail hands reached out and carefully touched his hand. After the first small brush of contact, the monster was enthralled. He examined 01’s hand, feeling the smoothness of his bones, comparing them to his own rough ones. 01 slowly closed his hand around the small one in his grasp and the other blinked at him in surprise.

Smiling, he carefully brought over his other hand, and mimicked the explorative motions that 02 had done, feeling the scratchy, flaky bones in his hand. Yellowed flakes snowed as he touched, and 01 fought to keep from looking upset.

“god, your bones feel like…like…” Well, they seemed to make him think of papyrus for some reason. Rough, flaky parchment made from pale, dry leaves. He’d seen it in the lab before. Some of the really old documents Gaster collected from ages gone by were written on the stuff. It indeed was flaky, as 01 had learned much to the scientist’s woe. “papyrus…heh…”

 

Papyrus-for-bones had no idea what he was saying, of course, but still, seeing the little guy react with happy smiles or confused turns of his skull made 01 feel good.

 

Turning to the bowls of food Gaster had given them, he grimaced at what lie heavy within: oatmeal. “yuck!” He glanced over at 02, realizing he was mimicking his disgust and looking distrustful of the food. With his already brittle bones, 01 knew that 02 needed to eat. Changing his tune, he quickly said, “i mean, _yum_!” He brought the bowl to his mouth and choked down a spoonful of oatmeal. “y-yeah…yummy…”

Picking up 02’s bowl, he presented a spoonful to the child. “ok, Papyrus-for-bones, we need to get you healed up. open wide!”

 

02 sat there, clacking his teeth with a wariness.

01 took another bite of the stuff, opening up wide and making a display of how good it was(n’t). “mmm, mm! good oatmeal!” Taking Papyrus-for-bones’ spoon up again, he brought it to the child’s teeth. “c’mon! just a bite?”

 

Just when he thought he was going to have to force feed the little shit, the skeleton slowly opened his mouth.

 

 

“good job! ok, here ya go.” 01 put the spoonful in the child’s mouth and watched as he took over from there, doing as he had seen 01 do.

 

Papyrus-for-bones looked a little miffed by the bland taste, his nasal ridge scrunching in disgust, but he forced it down. A red tongue peeked out from his teeth, flicking at his fangs as he contemplated the strange food. He sniffed after the bowl in 01’s hands with a cock of his skull.

 

01 praised him with happy sounds, drawing the other’s suspicions out of his skull. “yeah! see, it wasn’t so bad, right?” He smiled wide in an attempt at encouragement, but when the little skeleton smiled back in response, he really felt his own genuinely tug at his cheekbones. “alright, let’s get ya a couple more bites, ok?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Papyrus-for-bones had choked down a good fourth of the bowl, a lot more than 01 had expected. He felt pretty accomplished, and a lot better knowing that the meal would begin to heal the little guy. It would take a lot more, but the exercise in trust made him hopeful.

That would be for another time, however.

 

Despite everything, 01 had grown pretty tired after the food.

He curled up on the floor, seeing as there wasn’t even a cot in here. But 01 considered himself rather skilled at being able to sleep anywhere anyhow. It came in pretty handy too.

Yawning wide, he looked over to see Papyrus-for-bones watching him, bones gently rattling, toying with his balled-up rag. He looked nervous.

 

01 remembered how 02 had slept beside him (or at least that’s what he was pretty sure he had been doing) when he was asleep earlier. He wondered…?

 

“hey,” His voice made the other skeleton flinch and look at him with big, expectant eyes. “c’mere.” He motioned for him to come closer, and then patted the spot on the floor beside him.

 

The skeleton made his way forward, albeit shyly, and laid an arm’s reach away, curling around his rag. With a long sigh, 02 closed his sockets to sleep. Trusting that 01 would not hurt him.

 

 

It lit a warm feeling in his soul, seeing the little thing balled up like that, hugging his toy in his sleep for comfort, and taking silent joy in being close to 01.

 

He scooted closer, and carefully wrapped an arm around the little guy, wanting to hold him close-

 

 

02 flashed awake and smashed a fist into 01’s face with a startled cry.

 

 

01 yelped as stars blinked in his sockets, the punch a pretty fucking good one for a kid. He clasped his face, his mouth hurting like a bitch…and gasped as he felt something wet upon his hand. Red magic glistened on his hand, and he tasted it upon his tongue.

 

Papyrus-for-bones wailed terribly, coming forward to grasp at his face in terror, tears streaming from his sockets.

 

01 felt something in his mouth and spit out the foreign object onto the ground.

A tooth. His tooth. His goddamn tooth.

 

Running his tongue across the hole in his otherwise permanent grin, he couldn’t help but laugh. “heh heh heh! _mouth_ -er fucker! that was one hell of a punch, to tell you the _tooth_!”

 

02 was not comforted by his jokes and laughter. He sobbed and cried, his small body shaking from his sadness.

 

01 tried holding the monster again, and this time, 02 did not fight. Rather, the other skeleton wrapped his frail arms about him, snuggling into his smock as he whimpered and whined lamely. He patted the other’s skull, trying to help calm the little guy down. “heh, its ok, Papyrus-for-bones…i’m ok.”

 

After a few minutes, he realized that the skeleton in his arms had fallen asleep, exhausted and weak after all that had transpired.

 

 

Lying them both down, he held 02 close, feeling the other’s fragment of a soul beat near his own.

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

“Sss” Papyrus-for-bones, well, he’d shortened the nickname to Papyrus (he was far too lazy to say the whole thing) was trying once again to speak.

 

It was hard for him, and even now, his nasal ridge and brow scrunched in concentration, red tongue peeking out as he wrestled with figuring out how it worked in such a fluid way as the other skeleton’s. “SSSSS” He hissed louder, seemingly one of the few sounds he knew how to make.

 

The older skeleton encouraged him. “say _lab_.” It was an easy word, and one that was relevant, unfortunately. He was going to teach Papyrus, make him smart. Show fucking Gaster how _aware_ the little guy was!

 

 

Papyrus puffed out his cheekbones in anger, really trying now. “SSSAAB-” He got part of the word, but then devolved into a fit of disgruntled growls.

 

He’d learned early on that the little guy was fussy and had a bit of a temper at times. Kind of like now. Papyrus sputtered and hissed at his inability to get the words right, but his teacher and friend made sure to show him praise. “you’re doing great, Papyrus!”

 

It was slow going, but Papyrus had been able to kind of say one word already. Kind of. The very first word he’d taught him was “sand”. He thought it might be an easier word for him, considering he seemed to have the easiest time with S’s. The problem was that after Papyrus had somewhat gotten the word down, pronouncing it as “san” or “sanf” or, most commonly, “sans”. After he learned the one word then everything suddenly became “sand”. His rag-toy? Sand. His food? Sand. His toes? Sand. When he was mad and didn’t want something? Sand. When he was sleepy and wanted to go to bed? Sand.

 

Sand. Sand. Sand. In varying inflections and growliness.

 

It’d been quite the struggle to try and teach him otherwise, as most other words were tough for him. 

But it wasn’t that he was dumb. The skeleton was smart. Really! He caught on to what names were quite quickly. It didn’t take long at all for him to realize that when 01 said ‘Papyrus’ he was calling for his attention.

He also seemed to catch on that 01 referred to himself as ‘Subject 01’ but he had a hard enough time saying easy words. Subject 01 was too hard for him, and he often only called him by the only word he knew instead: sand. Well, rather “Sans”. Ok, that’s what it _sounded_ close to. Mostly it was hissing with an “ns” sounding hissy-growl after it.

He’d take whatever he got. He’d prefer being called “Sans” any day compared to Subject 01 anyways. It was…actually pretty cute, he had to admit, being given a nickname by the little guy.

 

 

Tired of practice, Papyrus grumbled “Sanf” angrily to himself before toying with his red rag, tussling with it on the ground, alternating between play-fighting and hugging. It was pretty cute to watch. He seemed to make his own fun quite easily.

 

The skeleton child huffed and threw the toy at him, “Sa-nss!” He hissed, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement.

 

“Sans” smiled and tossed the toy back. They threw and caught, threw and caught. It was repetitive and a bit boring for Sans, but the small skeleton loved it. He played and played, until his frailty caught up with him.

This was how their routine had gone for the last few days: Gaster brought them food in the morning, Sans got Papyrus to eat, Papyrus played until he could play no more, and then they took a nap. Later they played, then napped, played, then napped.

 

Napping was his favorite of the two.

 

Papyrus came over, rubbing at his sockets tiredly. Flopping at Sans’ side, he made no move other than a yawn as Sans pulled him into his lap, snuggling them both together. He sighed, hugging the tiny skeleton close. “you’re a good kid, Pap.”

“Sanss” The skeleton replied, curling around his rag as he liked to do.

 

 

It wasn’t long before he felt that soft glow in his chest, his soul latching onto the warm magic atop him. Two small pieces of a greater whole, linking just so. It was a great comfort to him, and he had to admit that he had grown terribly attached to Papyrus.

It was a terrifying thought, for he knew what it was Papyrus was destined for: pain and suffering, manipulation and fear, guilt and depression.

The small skeleton close to his soul was softly snoring within moments, the slight rise and fall to his chest the only way you’d know he still breathed. Gently, he smoothed a thumb over his arm, feeling the way that his bones still flaked, though not nearly so bad. He was getting stronger, and Sans could feel nothing but…goodness in his soul. Red glowed brightly in the dark, and the sleeping skeleton’s own smaller one met his with a soft blink, as if acknowledging that he was there. Still there with him, even in sleep.

Sans smiled to himself at how true that thought was. For it seemed like even his dreams were different nowadays. Most of the places were the same, dreams of sun and sky, water as far as the eye could see, fields in full bloom… The major difference was that he never seemed to be alone in his dreams. Even in sleep, a small other followed him wherever he went, smiling face and rag clutched tight to his chest. Stars twinkling in big red eyes, full of awe and excitement.

 

He liked these new dreams better, he thought. He drifted off into his thoughts with a sad sigh, wishing that they could just stay like this forever. That he could spend just one more day with Papyrus. That he could see that smile one more day. That he could continue to watch him grow, to teach him, to hold him close.

 

 

The sound of screeching metal hinges shocked him awake.

Papyrus skittered away into his corner, shivering at the figure that stood in the open doorway.

 

“hey, G.” Sans grinned as Gaster frowned, knowing the doc _hated_ being called that. 

 

Gaster looked over to where Papyrus rattled, and then signed to Sans, **How is it fairing?**

 

“he's fine. aren’t ya, Pap?”

Papyrus, of course said nothing, but his rattles died down at Sans’ calm tone.

 

Gaster frowned. **Do not give it a nickname.**

 

“heh, too late for that.” He shrugged. “he gave me one, too. just call me Sans.”

 

Papyrus hissed, “Sssaaan-sss,” Trying to echo the other skeleton.

 

He raised a brow bone to Gaster. “ya see?”

 

 

The scientist stared after Papyrus, making the other squirm in his corner and rattle again. **I believe you have spent enough time together. Subject 02 appears to no longer require your presence.**

 

Sans recoiled from the statement, and backed away as Gaster walked further into the cage. “h-hey! no! i’m not leaving him!” He couldn’t leave him.

It was a wonder Papyrus survived at all for as long as he did in such cruel solitude. You’d never think it was possible if you looked at him now. Constantly at Sans’ side, always brushing his hand, or leaning against him. The monster craved the comfort, even at night, Papyrus would willingly curl up with him to bed, happy to snuggle close to his chest.

 

So afraid was Papyrus of being left alone, sometimes he would wake up with a startled whimper, gripping onto Sans as if to make sure he was still there. Those nights were sad and full of sniffles and tears, and lots of hugs.

He’d gotten a little better about it, but Sans made sure to always hold him close, and remind him that he was there.

 

 

Sans wouldn’t let Gaster do that to him again. Papyrus couldn’t be alone again.

Sans couldn’t be alone again.

 

He felt tears prick at his sockets despite himself. He backed up further into the cage, and away from Gaster. “h-he needs me!”

Sans needed him.

 

Gaster scowled at Sans as he moved in closer, reaching out to grab for him. To which, Sans pressed back against the bars of the cage, sliding down to the floor. "i won't leave him!" The tears in his sockets fell as a rough hand wrapped about his arm, yanking to try and get him off the ground.

 

He could still see that scared little skeleton in his mind, cautiously reaching out to him, bones brittle and weak, that careful, though loving smile on his skull. He could see him hugging his rag tight, crying his fear, sadness, and loneliness to himself; not understanding. Having his only comfort, his only friend, torn away from him.

He could see Papyrus wailing in his corner, falling back into that primal distance, losing his kindess, losing his trust, losing himself to the dark loneliness.

 

It broke him.

 

" _no!_ " Sans screamed, flailing in Gaster’s grip, lashing out to kick Gaster in the shin. And crying out as Gaster smacked him across the face in retaliation with a distorted growl.

 

 

A flash of movement was all Sans saw before Gaster’s mouth parted in a silent scream, releasing Sans and falling back against the cage wall with a tremendous clatter of metal.

Furious growling filled the room, the creature making it latched onto the scientist’s arm, tearing his jagged teeth through Gaster’s bone.

The scientist grit his teeth, using his other hand to smack the skeleton away.

 

Papyrus fell back onto the floor, yelping as he landed poorly on his leg. Though unsteady, he shot to his feet, placing himself between Gaster and Sans. He hissed vehemently, quite intimidating for his size, darkly-tinted spittle flying from his maw as he curled a claw in warning. Magic lit the room hellishly, blazing from the young skeleton’s phalanges in sputtering, uncertain fits.

 

Gaster huffed as he leaned against the cage wall, clutching the injured arm to his chest. Watching.

 

They stared each other down, creator and creation. Papyrus loosed a low growl in his throat, not moving from his protective stance. He rattled his bones, magic flaring from within his chest in snapping crackles. Where the little guy found the strength to muster said magic, Sans did not know. It was impressive to say the least.

The scientist sucked in a pained breath as he looked over the bite. Dark magic oozed steadily from the wound, staining the pristine fabric of his sleeve into an inky blot. Despite this, his demeanor changed as he straightened himself out, a smile that Sans found to be unnerving curling his mouth. With a broken wince, Gaster signed as well as he could: **It shows potential, I’ll say that at least.**

 

Sans felt magic churn in his bones at those words, sickness making his marrow feel like molasses.

 

Gaster checked his wound again with a frown before he signed, **We will speak tomorrow. It seems to be ready for some of the trials I’ve prepared. I can at least get a feel for how far along it-**

 

Sans had heard enough. Getting up from the floor, he came forward to wrap his arms about the skeleton protectively, barking his rage at the scientist, “he’s a _he_! a fucking _he_! and _he_ does not deserve to be hurt!” His bones rattled with his fury. 

The small skeleton in his grasp, not really understanding what was going on, turned to hug him tight, burying his skull in his chest.

“and he’s a _kid_. a _goddamn kid_. i don’t care if he’s part of you or not, it doesn’t matter! you shouldn't treat him like this!”

 

 

Gaster tilted his head in that way that he did when he was thinking. He looked the two shaking skeletons over with a thoughtfulness Sans did not like. **What about you, Sans?**

 

He blinked in confusion at the question, his rattles dying down. “what about me?”

 

 

 **Do you deserve this?** The scientist asked, his face unreadable. **Why does he deserve it any less than you? You are both a part of me, you are both my subjects. You are both designed to be tested and honed.** His eyes glinted behind his glasses in the dim light, a spark of interest.

 

Sans looked down at the monster clutching him tight. The rag that he held onto for comfort somehow still in his arms despite the whole ordeal. Big red eyes stared up at him, nervous and afraid.

 

 **Well?** Gaster pressed, those eyes like a fucking cat seeing a mouse caught in its trap.

 

But Sans was not afraid. “he…he doesn’t know any better.” He stated. “he hasn’t had time yet to become…awful.” Memories of pain, both physical and psychological raced through his skull. The anger he felt for Gaster, for all monsterkind was immense.

What horrible creatures to allow such atrocities to happen. What horrible creatures to pin all their hopes on the pain and torture of the few so that the whole may prosper.

 

What a horrible creature Sans had become.

 

He reached up and gently touched his socket, the phantom pain still lingering after the first test with his terrible magic. He had been made to test his strength against opponents. Criminals, sentenced to death for their deeds, but monsters no less. He had grabbed hold of their souls, made to mercilessly beat them to death with bones and soul-tearing attacks.

He had loved it. The feeling of power. The flow of strength that came after the kill, that came before the dust even had time to settle. The exhilarating power of leveling up.

 

Many had fought back, and he had more or less killed them out of defense. Well…that’s what he told himself…sometimes. After the fight was over, after he lie unable to sleep at night, feeling the dust on his bones, tasting it on his tongue…he tried to reason.

But there were some he couldn’t think away. Couldn’t just excuse as defense, or accident. Some that had cried for mercy, had cast aside the weapons they’d been given. Calling him kid, calling him son, or sonny. They wanted to help him. They wanted to call truce.

They had pleaded and cried, had seen the blood and dust on his bones, on the floor, the walls. They had seen the menace in his eyes, the lust for XP in his sockets.

Many had hopes and dreams, many wanted to live so very badly.

 

And he had been made to snuff out the life from their eyes.

 

The pain the magic use brought him was nothing compared to the pain of taking a life. He had cried for days after, both from the searing pain in his skull and socket…and the horrendous guilt.

Apparently, he needed to work on his psychological stability. According to Gaster’s test results.

 

 

He used to dream of being free of this. He dreamed of traveling to the places in his books, to be free and to not be afraid. And as Sans looked into those sad, red eyes full of life at his chest, it was all he could think of. It was all he wanted.

But not for himself.

 

He wanted Papyrus to live and to be happy. To keep free from what was done to him. Sans was a lost cause; he knew it to be true. Awaking at night with nightmares from the day, feeling his soul flutter and crack little by little as the stress built… No, Sans was too far gone.

But Papyrus…

 

A smile tugged at his skull, and the little skeleton smiled back, though clearly still worried about him. That smile was perfect; so innocent and untainted. This monster had been treated so badly in his young life, nearly turned feral from lack of love and care. Yet, somehow, he had enough to give to Sans.

 

This child was good, and he found that he loved him deeply.

He was the only thing here that _was_ good.

 

 

He cast his eyes up to Gaster, and spoke, “i don’t think i deserve this. nobody does.” Rubbing the top of Papyrus’ skull, he spoke softly. “but he deserves it less.”

 

Gaster raised a brow to him. **Oh? Is there some reason why I should consider it?**

 

Sighing, Sans took a breath and pressed on, knowing that with this he would seal his fate. “if you keep Papyrus out of this, i’ll…i’ll cooperate.”

 

Standing there a moment, Gaster seemed a bit surprised by his answer. He looked him over a moment, seeing the unsteady, yet resolute conviction on his skull. **Why? What is it-he to you? I already told you that he would share your burden.**

 

“he’s a monster like me. isn’t that enough?” He held Gaster’s stare, his voice lowering into a spiteful growl, “not everyone is as soulless as _you_.”

 

 

Silence ruled as they sized each other up, waiting to see who would give first.

 

 

Gaster sniffed indignantly and signed, **I will come for you in the morning, then. We have much to do, and I expect you to _cooperate_**.

 

 

The creature that was Gaster locked them back in their cage, and went on his way, surely drooling over the potential this new situation held for him.

 

Sweat beaded his skull, panic swirling in his skull as he realized how stupid that had been. He had only just met this monster! And here he was, throwing his fucking physical well-being and slowly unraveling mind onto the chopping block for him.

What kind of fool was he-

 

“S-Sa-ns?” Papyrus spoke, a strange mixture of a whimper and a growl. He cocked his head to the side, worry pinching his brow bone. He held out his one and only treasure: his red rag, to Sans, wanting to share the comfort it offered with him.

He took it and felt his fears disappear with the small skeleton’s smile.

 

“thanks…Pap.”

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

 

 

Rubbing at his sockets, he took a moment to stand outside the door to their shared room. The magic in his skull felt too full, pounding against his sockets, causing them to ache something terrible.

 

But as he stood there, placing his hand upon the doorknob, he felt a little better. Knowing that someone was waiting for him when he opened the door...it put a smile on his face. It reminded him why he suffered.

 

 

The door opened, and a small skeleton gave a gasping cry of surprise, "Sans!"

Papyrus dropped whatever it was he was doing and ran over to wrap him in a hug.

 

Sans chuckled and hugged him back, aware of the fact that Papyrus wasn't quite as small as he used to be. His skull nearly reached Sans' shoulders, and he had a feeling he was only going to continue to grow.

After Gaster set them up here, Papyrus really seemed to take off. His bones were smooth as they'd ever been, no more flakes, no more scratchy divets. His sockets were well rested from his comfy bed, and his eyes were bright and curious from the books he was learning to read.

 

Their room wasn’t huge, but it was nice. Lots of the scientists lived down here in similar cookie-cutter rooms. They actually were granted one of the bigger ones. Two beds sat across from each other on either wall, making up their living room with a small dresser off to the side. A radio sat atop it, dusty and neglected. Why they even had it was beyond him; there was no reception down here. They didn’t have a lot, they didn’t really need a lot of things. The only thing of worth that they owned were the books he had argued and bargained for from Gaster. Papyrus had set them up in neat little stacks and propped them wherever he could fit them. He was getting really good at reading, and Sans tried to make time for stories as much as he could.

He set down his bag, a few books inside for his hard work today. Books about knights and humans, about the Royal Guard, and a rare book that had lots of interesting pictures.

He thought Papyrus would like them.

 

Today had been a pretty mild day for him. He and Gaster spent the day running through calculations and figuring out some inconsistencies from their last test. They had toiled in the “numbers room” as Sans liked to call it, crouched over sheets and rustling through stacks of papers and files. Gaster was one hell of a disorganized scientist, his desks and workspace a complete and utter disaster. Half of their problem was from the two of them being unable to keep anything organized in their hastiness.

Chuckling to himself, he felt a strange mixture of anger, disgust, and pity. Maybe Sans was the one to take on part of Gaster’s disorganized soul? It was a bizarre and disturbing thought to say the least, but he supposed it was probably true. As much as he hated thinking about it.

 

 

He and Gaster had an…odd relationship of sorts. It was fucked up as hell, but, well, he supposed everything was pretty fucked up when it came to G.

 

Sans had sort of come to…respect the guy. Just a bit. Just _a bit_.

While he would love nothing more than to punch the guy’s lights out, drag him around a bit, thrash his fucking broken soul till it ached…he did understand him a bit better.

Not entirely. The guy was a fucking maniac, but he could at least see that he wasn’t the only one to suffer. Sans had found out after his first week of “working” for Gaster that the scientist actually did a lot of his experiments on himself.

During that first week, Sans got to witness Gaster test a new type of weapon. A bastardization of science and magic, the freakish weapon-monster had been quite a sight to see. It was a prototype, and quite a messy one at that, but it was still intimidating. Splitting skull, sharp teeth, and deformed sockets greeted him when they arrived in the testing chamber.

 

“heh, what do ya expect me to do with that?” He’d snarked. “that thing’s not going up my ass.” Yeah, he was going to cooperate with Gaster, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t be a shit about it.

 

Gaster, of course, had rolled his eyes at him with a flat expression. **Must you be so crude?**

 

“yep.” Sans had chided, crossing his arms over his chest. Sizing up the weapon, he then became curious. “so, uh, what are ya planning on doing, G?”

 

Ignoring the nickname, Gaster had signed, **I’m going to try firing it up.**

 

“huh?” He’d stood there dumbfounded, not really expecting that. “s-so, what am i gonna do?”

 

Gaster shrugged, **I want you to observe. Your low hp will make this test far too hazardous for you to try without proper preparations.** Taking a breath, Gaster let his strange violet magic surface to his mauled palms. **You’ll get your chance to try this soon enough.**

 

Magic sparked along the other’s frame, the steely, yet tired eyes of its owner focused intently on the weaponized skull. Violet traced and arched to catch on the spiked fringes of the skull, eerie eyes beginning to light and then fade, the magic not quite enough to bring it to life.

Sans had stood watching, his bones tingling from the sheer amount of magic in the air. It crackled and sparked, the weapon it attempted to resurrect needing so much more than he could have ever thought.

 

A movement caught his eye, and he turned to look back at the Royal Scientist. Gaster had fallen to his knees. The broken and torn fragment of his soul burned brightly in his chest, the weak thing straining to keep up with the outflow of magic. His body shook as he tried to pull his hands back, as he tried to call off his magic.

 

He looked like he was…caught. Like an animal in a trap.

 

 

Sans would have let him die. Sans should have let him die. Let him be taken by his own horrible deeds, from his own greedy need to learn more, to gain more power over this world.

 

Until he looked at him.

His eyes, wide with fear and full of life in those potential last moments. They were so very different but so very similar to ones he knew well.

 

Without another thought, Sans had barreled forward, tackling Gaster. He had sent them both flying back, the shock to the scientist’s soul breaking the siphon the weapon had held over him.

A shivering mess, Gaster had curled in on himself on the floor and wretched, dark ooze coating the floor and his coat.

 

Sans had been afraid, and had reached out to help, why he still did not know, but Gaster had turned him down anyways with a cough and rough smack to his hand.

 

So, he had left him there to vomit on the floor. What else could he have done?

 

 

 He went home early that day, much to Papyrus' joy, and spent the day reading and playing.

 

 

The very next day, he'd found Gaster back to work, hunched over his papers and books as if nothing had happened. He was back on the horse, though not without his favored bottle of vice. Gaster didn’t drink often, but when he did, he sure as hell made a day of it and then some. A violet blush bloomed across the scientist’s otherwise deathly pale face, his writing a sloppy mess on the paper he was working on.

 

"so, is it my turn?" Sans had asked about the weapon. The comment sounded crude, and he meant to sound that way, though he did feel a tinge of nervousness and was afraid to know the answer.

 

The scientist had held his gaze a moment, and then sighed and signed woozily, **If you would like to try, be my guest. As of now, I think it will need a little bit of tweaking.**

 

Raising his brow, he'd chuckled, relieved that he would not be this day's guinea pig. "a _little_ bit of tweaking?"

 

It might have been the drink that caused it, but right then, he had seen a smile twitch at Gaster's marred mouth. A slight pull at the corners. **Perhaps a bit more than a little...**

 

Since that day, Sans had gained that little bit of respect he now had for Gaster. Realizing that he didn’t just use Sans as a lab rat, but used himself too. Most of the time, Gaster tried shit out on himself before he even asked it of Sans.

Sans actually found himself kind of…asking to help out…sometimes. As much as he hated to admit it, the work that Gaster did started to rub off on Sans, and he found himself intrigued by some of it. He had always been good at math. After all, Gaster had taught him when he was young, but, he felt like he had more freedom to use it now. Sans had actually started side projects of his own.

Gaster had come up with the theory that their world consisted of mathematically deducible code, and Sans had sort of expanded on it. Using Gaster’s calculations for the parameters of certain spaces, he had invented a trans-dimensional box. Well, it wasn’t a trans- _dimensional_ box, more like a “outside of the outside” sort of box, but that was beyond the point. He’d made a box that could hold things outside of the physical plane. Outside the code, or “The Map” as Gaster liked to call it.

 

He tried to keep a lot of it secret, of course, but once one of the scientists found out about it, then the whole team seemed to find out overnight.

 

And Gaster had found out as well. The Royal Scientist had actually looked…proud, if that was even the right word to use for it. Sans still wasn’t sure.

But Gaster had begun to take his word, had begun to ask for his opinions, had begun giving praise to work that he did. If you squinted just right, you'd think Sans was just another scientist instead of an abomination.

 

 

 

But thinking those kinds of thoughts were dangerous.

He needed to remind himself of the evil that went on here. He needed to remember that blood that was spilled.

 

Sometimes, you could get so wrapped up in the numbers, in the puzzles, in the excitement of discovery and advancement that you'd lose touch.

 

No.

He would not let himself fall as Gaster had.

Blood was spilled for this cause, and he would make sure and remember that.

 

 

And at the end of the day, he was still Subject 01.

 

 

 

"Sans, I made supper!" Papyrus piped happily, shaking Sans from his thoughts. In his daze, Papyrus had gone over to their little kitchen and stood upon a nearby stool, swirling something in one of the many pots. "I found a recipe book and made spaghetti!"

 

Pots, pans, bowls, and utensils lined the stove and countertop. Sans didn't even know they had so much kitchenware, but apparently they did.

 

Papyrus chattered on, talking about how they didn't have all the ingredient so he had improvised some things for other things. Sans listened absently as he looked over the messy kitchen: the...spaghetti...simmered with sizzling pops in one of the pots, steam rising from the-

 

Sans sniffed. That wasn't steam. Quickly, he switched off the stove and took the burning pan off the heat. The dish reeked of burn, the contents inside looking edible enough, but the smell deterred all hopes of appetite.

 

Papyrus stood on his tip-toes, trying to see what Sans was looking at. "Oh! Is it done?"

 

Sans looked over the stuff in the once-smoking pot: noodles drenched in a red sauce lie within the pan, freshly made with hard work and love.

 

"uh..." He trailed off, stirring the substance with the wooden spoon that unfortunately lie stuck in the stuff. Thick flakes of burn came to the surface as he swirled it. He raised a brow to Papyrus, "i...uh...i thought we agreed you couldn't use the stove when you were alone?"

 

 

Papyrus scoffed indignantly, placing a hand to his chest. "I'll have you know I'm not a baby bones anymore!"

 

Sans smiled and nodded with a, "uh-huh...?" Still trying to decide what they were going to eat now that "spaghetti" was out of the question.

 

"Yeah!" Papyrus went on, "I take care of myself all day like a big bones!"

 

Sans all but choked on his own breath at that, his guilt like hands about his throat.

 

"I clean the room when you're at work, I do the laundry, get food by myself, and I even have been learning to fight!"

 

 

A smile wormed its way to Sans' skull. Seeing the sparkle in the little guy's eyes like that, so full of innocent hope and determination. "heh heh. i guess you are a big bones." He grinned wide, setting the pot aside and wiping his hands on a nearby towel. "you've been learning to fight, huh? well, how about..."

 

Papyrus screamed as Sans grabbed him up off the stool, carrying him over to the bed and flopping the both of them down.

 

"tickle fights!" Sans laughed, mercilessly attacking the smaller skeleton writhing with mirth-filled cries.

 

"Sans! Nyeh heh heh! Nyeh! S-stop! Heh heh heh!" Papyrus wriggled and squirmed, and while he was bigger than before, he was still too small to overpower Sans. "Mercy-heheh!" He screamed, tears forming in his eyes.

 

Sans let him go, breathless and cheekbones aching from his grin. "ok, i'll grant you mercy...for now." He winked at Papyrus who stuck his tongue out at him in response.

 

"Nyeh!" He taunted. "You're too much of a lazybones to _not_ grant mercy!"

 

Rolling onto his back and kicking his shoes off to land on the floor, Sans yawned. "yep."

 

"Well..." Papyrus started, shifting to his knees and striking a pose. "When I grow up I won't be so merciful!"

 

Sans looked up at him with a raised brow. "oh yeah?"

 

"Yeah! I can't be merciful and lazy! One day, I'm going to be a Royal Guard!" He jumped down from the bed and ran over to rummage in a little bin he had labeled, "Papyrus' Stuff! Nobody else!"

 

Turning over to watch Papyrus, he yawned again, sleepy, though curious, he gave an amused smile.

 

"Nyeh heh!" The little hellion boasted, wielding a long roll of paper, his raggedy red cloth tied about his shoulders like a cape. "En garde!" He cried, swishing the "sword" about. His cape flew out behind him as he leapt here and there, fighting off imaginary enemies.

 

 

"oh no!" Sans gasped, pointing behind Papyrus. "look out for the deadly human!"

 

"Huh?!" Papyrus startled, whipping around with wide sockets.

 

Grabbing the throw off the bed, Sans wrapped himself up in it and crept forward. Arms outstretched, he loosed a growling roar.

 

"Eep!" Papyrus squeaked in fear, whirling around and hitting Sans with the paper sword, bending it against Sans' chest.

 

"ahh! you got me!" Sans clutched at his chest. "ugh! the pain! i'm dying!" Dramatically, he fell back onto the bed, loosing a final death throe.

 

 

 

"Ha, ha, _real_ funny." Papyrus rolled his eyes and snarked as he crossed his arms over his chest.

 

Sans continued to play dead, peeking at the skeleton ever so slightly.

 

Papyrus' scowl began to fade, slowly forming into worry. "S-Sans? H-hey...c'mon lazybones!"

 

He came over and poked Sans' middle, to which he remained "dead".

 

"Sans?!" Papyrus cried, jumping up onto the bed and patting at his face. "S-SANS?!" Hints of tears began to well in his sockets, and they might just have fallen if Sans hadn't started laughing.

 

 

"heh heh heh! did you really think you'd hurt me?"

 

 

Red bloomed across Papyrus' cheeks, his eyes narrowing in anger. "That _wasn't funny_ , Sans!" He pouted, crossing his arms in that way that he did when he got embarrassed.

 

It was so goddamn cute when Papyrus got upset, the little blush on his skull and the way his face pinched in anger. He couldn't help but laugh! “aww! heh heh heh!”

 

The little skeleton was not so amused. "S-stop laughing at me!" Papyrus sniffed, his voice growing thick.

 

 

 

Sans stopped at the sniveling sound, and instantly felt bad. Getting up, he crawled forward and pulled Papyrus into a hug. "hey...i'm sorry."

 

"You scared me." Papyrus sniffed, not looking at Sans, and refusing to hug him back.

 

"i'm sorry," He said again, squeezing him tight. "that was really mean."

 

 

Papyrus looked up at him, and after a pause, hugged him back. "Sans?"

 

"uh, huh?"

 

"I-If a human ever does come to get you...I want to protect you."

 

 

 

He blinked in surprise, looking down at the curiously serious glint in those red eyes.

 

"You're too lazy to fight. So I will for you!" He hugged him tighter. "I'm not going to let anybody hurt you anymore when I get big!"

 

Sans felt tears well in his sockets, and he blinked hard to hold them back. Rubbing the top of Papyrus' skull, he choked. "You won't have to, Pap. I'm ok."

 

"No you're not. You get hurt at work all the time." Papyrus sighed, not believing him. "Nobody's _that_ clumsy! Not even you!"

 

 

Heh, what the fuck was Gaster thinking, saying this kid was an "imbecile"? How the hell Papyrus pieced things apart like he did, Sans would never know. The kid was _sharp_.

 

"heh," He shrugged. "i'm just too lazy to care."

 

Papyrus huffed and rolled his sockets. "I know you're lying, shithead!"

 

"hey, we said no swear words till your older." Sans scolded.

 

"But I'm a big bones!" Papyrus corrected, however after seeing Sans' raised brow he grumbled, "Fine...poophead."

 

"that's better."

Looking back over to the kitchen, Sans said with a chuckle, "you know we can't eat the spaghetti...right?"

 

"Yeah, I know...it's gone cold now."

 

Sans didn't tell him they could put it in the microwave because, well, only edible things went in the microwave. "heh heh, alright, instant noodles it is!"

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

After dinner, and after Papyrus made sure Sans got cleaned up for bed, Papyrus put on his pajamas and tucked himself into bed.

 

He lie back in the bed with a sigh that devolved into a yawn. All ready to go for his bedtime story.

 

It was one of the few books that Sans had found with pictures in it. The only book he had ever seen that was specifically for young children: Fluffy Bunny.

 

It was perhaps for much younger children than Papyrus, but he loved it all the same. Cuddling his tattered rag close, Papyrus listened as Sans read him the book, knowing the story by heart.

 

 

When the story was done, Sans closed it gently and got up with creaking bones. Now it was time for him to hit the hay-

 

"Sans?" A tired voice whispered.

 

He turned back to see a sleepy bones, barely able to keep his sockets open. "heh, yeah, Pap?"

 

 

 

"Are we...brothers?"

 

The question caught Sans off-guard, shaking the sleep out of him. "uh...w-what?"

 

"Well...I just thought..." Papyrus twiddled with his rag, the startings of a blush creeping across his cheekbones. "N-never mind."

 

 

Sans ran a hand over his skull.

They...sort of were...something, he guessed. They were both made from Gaster (as much as he hated thinking about it), so technically they were related in some way?

Sighing, he rubbed at his sockets tiredly, too worn from the day to puzzle out such a deep question.

He smiled, coming over to Papyrus' side, and leaned in to give him a hug. "heh heh, i don't know, to be honest." He said.

 

As he pulled away, the look of disappointment on the little guy's skull was enough to make his soul melt. "uh, erm..." He couldn't believe he was going to do this, but, when those eyes looked up at him, tired but full of hope he knew that he was making the right choice.

 

"you can call me your brother...if you want-"

 

The skeleton gasped before throwing his arms around him with an excited cry, hugging him tight. "Oh! Thank you...brother!" Papyrus' grin widened as he said it, giddiness lighting the soul in his chest aglow.

 

"no problem, _bro_." Sans chuckled at the sparkle of pure joy that the simple word inspired, and felt his own soul beat with happiness too.

"ok," Yawning, he guided Papyrus to lie back into bed. "time to get back to bed."

 

Papyrus, still beaming, but aware that Sans was tired, let his newly-appointed brother tuck him in.

 

Rubbing the top of Papyrus' skull, he flicked off the lights then got into his own bed to snuggle under the covers for some well-deserved rest.

 

 

 

Just as he was starting to fall asleep, a small voice called out: "Hey, Sans?"

 

Groaning, Sans replied, "yeah?"

 

 

There was a pause, and just when Sans was about to snap at him for playing around, Papyrus' voice whispered from his side of the room.

 

"I...love you, brother."

 

 

His sockets went wide, and he stared across the room, holding the gaze of the two red motes in the dark.

A tug at his soul made him wince. It was something that he had felt before, but never quite so strong. He felt that same feeling when Papyrus smiled, when he nagged him for not taking care of himself, when he tried to act tough, when he laughed, when he got excited, when he cuddled close...

A feeling that he was afraid to admit to, afraid to utter for fear of it breaking some unspoken rule and shatter all that he had from his grasp. So delicate and tentative was this thing that they had, that he had been afraid that maybe Papyrus didn't feel it.

 

Smiling to himself, he whispered, "i...i love you too...bro."

 

 

The red eyes watched a few moments before they blinked from existence with a content sigh.

 

Sans sighed himself and settled back into his covers. Letting the lingering feeling of warmth in his soul lull him into a wonderful rest.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

"this ain't gonna work, G."

Sans stated bluntly, looking down at the instrument on the table.

 

A medium-sized device, that sorta looked like a weird vacuum cleaner if you turned your skull right, sat waiting for use. Red liquid beamed from within the canisters attached to its core, the mere sight of it making Sans want to wretch.

 

Determination, or, as Gaster called it: DT.

 

The stuff was awful. Extracted from humans long ago, the only reason they had never run out is from its sheer potency.

Only drops were needed for most of their research. Only a teaspoon's worth had helped Gaster come up with the Core.

 

DT was dangerous for monsters. Monsters weren't meant to handle such power, and introducing it to magic could be catastrophic if done improperly.

Gaster had done most of his testing on himself, and had paid dearly for it. Every so often, you'd catch a glimpse of a mishapen limb, or a sickening wrinkle to his face, usually only when he was upset or too tired to keep up himself straight. Sometimes, Sans would find him hunched over a waste can, or a staff toilet, spewing up dark overflow of magic from his deeds. Gaster had ruined himself with his boldness, unable to take on more DT without tearing his soul and body apart.

 

 

Good thing he had Sans, huh?

 

Sans probably held more DT than any monster could ever dream of. Unlike Gaster, he had been introduced to it slowly in the smallest intervals, carefully weaned into it. And now DT coursed through his bones. Literally.

 

Today would be more than the last. Just a tiny bit more than the last, as per usual.

He would be given the DT, be asked some questions, run through some trials, and then he would spend the next two days in solitary quarters vomiting and roiling in agony. It was hard leaving Papyrus alone for so long, but it was better than him seeing Sans in such a sorry state. If it meant that Papyrus could stay free of this same fate, well, then he guessed he would manage.

 

 

As he looked down at the canister, he couldn't help but shiver. This stuff was fucking awful, and every time he worried it might be his tipping point, that he might just see himself fall apart once and for all. Maybe melt into a pile of over-infused magic, or spew his non-existent guts up.

Or maybe he'd just fall apart.

 

Sans actually used to fucking hope that would happen. He used to wish for death so that it could fuck over Gaster one last time. Heh heh, see all his hard work go down the fucking toilet with his dust!

 

 

But now...Sans grit his teeth, absently licking at the replacement tooth in his permanent grin.

 

Yeah, he used to feel that way...but with Papyrus, well, Sans had a bit of a change in soul.

 

 

"hey, G!" He called to the scientist, seeing that he was finally finished with preparations. "how the hell is this gonna make my magic better? we already know the last time it failed." He chuckled at Gaster's glare. "you know what the definition of insanity is, right?"

 

Gaster shoved a smooth piece of wood into his mouth for him to bite, before signing: **You have no faith in me.**

 

Sans snorted around the bite, and gave Gaster an obvious look that could roughly be translated to "no shit".

 

 

Gaster scowled at him, before going over to the side table, grabbing the "vacuum" end of the device. At the tip was a large, sharp needle, sturdy enough to withstand what was about to happen next.

 

Sans' soul beat hard in his chest, fluttering in fear. His breath came in pants, completely out of control as sweat beaded his brow.

 

He could do nothing but watch as Gaster reached in and grabbed his terrified soul and brought the needle close-

 

Sans snapped his eyes shut and bit down hard on the wood, not wanting to see when it-

 

 

He screamed as a sudden rush of strength tore through him. Power made his hp spike, then suddenly fall, wavering and splintering, only to rocket beyond its 1 hit point. Stars blinked in his sockets as his magic fought against the influx, trying to keep its state equilibrius. But the DT he already carried reacted itself, ripping through his marrow to coalesce in his soul. Bright Determination swelled in his soul, threatening to break it clean in two. Crackles began to form, the magic casing having a hard time keeping itself together.

 

It was at this time adding an influx of DT was important. Gaster switched on the machine, its sole purpose being to force more into the already overloaded stream.

 

Sans shook and squirmed in his restraints, spasms wracking through him as his soul rejected more being forced into his magic. Cracking, cracking, and then-

 

 

The soul absorbed the over-abundant DT, softening and melding around the fluid. Magic, once rejecting, began to mingle with the DT, over saturating his form with the stuff.

 

His vision began to go dark, the pain too much for him to handle. A hand smacked at his face, and he took a deep breath, not having realized he'd stopped breathing.

 

 

Gaster watched with a pinched brow, carefully noting everything that he witnessed onto his clipboard.

 

 

His skull pounded hard, the beat a steady, shallow rhythm that made tears fall from his sockets. He felt too full. Just too goddamn full. He swore his bones were stretching from the sheer amount of magic, marrow, and determination that fought within. His soul ached horrendously in his chest, too tired to keep up its usual beat. The sound of it in his chest becoming less like a beat, in fact, and more like a disgusting plop. Like the sound of dropping wet meat.

 

 

 

A sharp intake of breath made his foggy eyes roll to look at Gaster. Behind those glasses of his, his eyes were wide, and his mouth agape. Before Sans could ask why, the scientist whipped around and began to sign frantically at the observation window.

 

Sans wanted to know why Gaster was acting in such a way, but as he looked down at himself he screamed in horror.

Ribs, once sturdy and rounded, began to flex inwards, their rigidity lost. His bones were soft, and as he pulled at his restraints, he realized with gross awareness that he could pull them free, their softness allowing him to merely squeeze out of his bonds.

 

 

His soul quaked in his chest, flopping against his melting ribs. He screamed, the sound broken and distorted as tears fell from his sockets. Gaster turned back to him, his clipboard clattering to the floor as he raced forward. Sans felt as if his mind were rolling inside his skull, his thoughts here now there. Pain, power, a touch to his cheek, magic crackling along his ribs and arching out from his soul, a horrendous pain as his legs started to melt as well, wetness on his cheeks, a scream.

 

His scream.

 

 

Gaster watched him behind his glasses, the rarest emotion of them all breaking through clear as day: concern.

Genuine concern for someone else.

 

 

For Sans.

 

 

 

* * *

 

 

 

Papyrus hummed quietly to himself. It was a song he’d heard on the radio. He had fixed it all by himself, and he could hardly keep in his excitement over it. Wouldn’t his brother be proud?

He bounced on his feet as he walked, too excited to hold it in his soul.

 

He would have to show Sans, or rather let him listen to, the radio station he’d found! A monster called Mettaton had a great channel, full of singing and talking and lots of cool things! He’d listened to it all morning, learning about the outside world, and about what sorts of things went on beyond the labs.

 

But that would be later.

Right now, Papyrus was going to go grab some groceries from the supply as he did every Wednesday. He liked the routine, he liked sticking to a schedule and keeping with it! Papyrus was forgettable, and having a standard made things easier for him. Today was Wednesday, which meant groceries. Monday and Tuesday were his learning days. Thursday was cleaning day. Friday was Sans’ day off and therefore they played and had fun. Saturday and Sunday were when Sans was gone the whole weekend, and while Papyrus didn’t know where he was, he knew he was ok.

 

Cause on Saturday and Sunday, Dad came over.

 

Well, his name wasn’t Dad and he never called him that to his face, but he liked to think of him that way. After all, if Sans and Papyrus were brothers, that made Gaster his dad!

 

 

Dad came over when Sans was gone, and told him it was their “secret time” together. Gaster was trying to teach him how to speak in hands, but it was hard for Papyrus. He wasn’t very smart. Not nearly as smart as his big brother!

Dad couldn’t speak, he spoke with his hands normally but because Papyrus wasn’t good at it, he wrote for him. He wrote to him often, giving him letters in secret. He would ask about Papyrus, or about his day, but a lot of the time he asked about Sans. Wondering how he was, if he was eating enough, if he was working at home, etc.

Papyrus took the opportunity as a chance to hone his writing and reading skills. He was getting better at spelling, and his handwriting, though scratchy, was legible. He was very proud of himself, and while he wanted to show Sans his achievements, he also didn’t want to make Dad upset.

 

Papyrus wanted to do whatever he could to make him happy. Maybe, if he saw how good and smart Papyrus was, he’d live with them! Then they could be a family like in the books!

 

 

His soul tittering in his chest with his hopeful glee, he hummed louder as he touched his raggedy scarf. It looked so cool fluttering out behind him, like a real cape.

He told his Dad that he wanted to be a Royal Guard, though, he hadn’t been very enthusiastic as he was…

 

The strange skeleton had sat at their little kitchen table with him, two cups of tea steaming for them to sip as they “talked” as was customary! A tablet had lie between them, and they passed it back and forth, chattering through their pens.

_I want to be a Royal Guard one day._ He had wrote, passing the paper to his father with a smile. He knew that they had been talking about Sans…but they only ever seemed to talk about Sans.

 

He loved Sans! Sans was the best brother in the whole world! He worked hard all the time, and he always took time to play with him!

 

But…

It often seemed like Dad only ever cared about Sans.

 

Papyrus was certain that that was untrue! Why else would he come to visit him? Why else would he have given them such a nice room and books and clothes?

 

No, their Dad cared about him too.

 

 

The doctor had looked at the paper with a frown, and it had made his soul drop in his chest. The way that he looked at Papyrus, with a smirking grin…he almost felt foolish for writing what he had. B-But Papyrus wasn’t a quitter!

He had smiled and went on, “Y-yeah! One day I’ll join the guard! I want to be able to protect my brother!”

 

At that, Gaster had blinked, and wrote on the paper: _Brother?_

He wrote right back, _Yeah, Sans is my brother._ He began to write more, but got a little frustrated trying to spell “related”, and decided to talk instead. “Sans said we are related. He doesn’t think we’re brothers, but I do!” He fidgeted with his scarf under his “Dad’s” scrutinizing look. “A-and…we’re related cause of…of you…” He trailed off, afraid to look at Gaster, afraid to be told he was being daft. He knew he wasn’t smart, but he didn’t like to hear it, especially from him. It made his soul hurt. “Yeah, look! I’ll show you!” Sliding off of his chair, he ran over to one of the stacks of books.

A normal stack of books you say? Nope! In this stack of ordinary books was an _extraordinary_ book! Nyeh heh heh! Inside his favorite book, Fluffy Bunny, he had placed a super-secret drawing behind the back flap. It was one like many others he had drawn, but this was his best work, and he was very, very proud of it.

Maybe Dad would like it too? Maybe he’d see that Papyrus was talented too!

 

Coming back over, he placed the paper down before Gaster. His eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open, surely in complete and utter surprise at such artistic skill!

 

Gaster picked up the paper with his strange, holey hands. The picture trembled as bit as he looked it over, and for a second Papyrus got nervous. The scientist’s brow had pinched, his mouth pursing in thought.

Papyrus stood by, fiddling with his rag-cape around his neck. It was pretty obvious that Dad didn’t like it.

 

“I, uh, thought I did a pretty good job.” Papyrus said apologetically. “Maybe it’s a little hard to tell, but,” He reached over and pointed to each of the figures on the paper.

“That’s me, Sans, and you!” His artistic skill was unique, but, hopefully now that Gaster knew that all three of them were in the picture, holding hands, maybe he’d like it.

 

 

Gaster placed the paper down onto the table, taking off his glasses, he ran a hand over his sore-looking sockets.

He looked like he needed a hug, but Papyrus knew better than to try it. Dad wasn’t the most cuddly of folks, after all.

 

After a few seconds, Gaster looked at him over his splayed fingers, looking confused and uncertain. He pulled the tablet over to himself and began to write.

After, the tablet pushed forward with a rasp upon the tabletop, the monster sitting across from him looking…well, Papyrus didn’t really know what to call it. Maybe a little bit sad and a little bit mad? Whatever it was, he looked quite upset.

Looking at the paper, he read: _Why?_

 

Papyrus sighed in relief, glad that he was not such a dummy! Smiling, he answered, thinking maybe this once, just this once, he would say what his soul felt. “Well, we don’t have any pictures of us, so I drew one. I wanted one to show that we are related!” He cocked his head to the side, trying to be very cautious with his question, “You’re our Dad, right?”

 

 

Gaster had sat there, his eyes distant as he stared through Papyrus. He looked a lot like how Sans did sometimes, when he got “lost in his skull” as Papyrus liked to call it. He sat waiting patiently, sipping at his cool tea. It was best to not disrupt when Sans got like that. Trying to break him out of his thoughts made him get really jumpy and upset, and he figured his Dad would be the same.

After a minute or two of silence, Gaster got up from the table.

 

He still had that look to him, and Papyrus knew he should just let him go, but he didn’t want Gaster to leave yet! He only saw his Dad twice a week and even then it usually wasn’t for long! Seeing the doctor start to leave, Papyrus had run after the other’s calm, long stride. “Wait! Dad- I mean, Gaster! I’m sorry! Don’t go!” Papyrus hated being alone. And these little visits on Saturday and Sunday were the only thing that helped him not feel so sad. “Wait!” He grabbed hold of his coat, tugging at it in desperation.

 

Gaster opened the door, turning back to look down at him, coming out of his thoughts as Papyrus pleaded at his feet.

 

“Please! Don’t go…” He had swallowed the lump in his throat, trying to push down the sadness in his soul. “W-we can talk about Sans more! I-I know you like him more. He’s smart and funny and a really cool guy!”

Gaster’s brow pinched as he blinked at him, a small frown turning the corners of his mouth. He wasn’t leaving though, so he must be saying something right! Papyrus went on, “I won’t call you dad anymore! I’m sorry, I call Sans brother all the time, and I just thought that maybe since you-”

 

He stopped, his words dying on his tongue as he felt a hand light on top of his skull. The monster before him gave him a curious look, one that he had seen Sans make before. When he was confused and nervous, when he was unsure…but still trying.

The hand on his skull left after a moment, and Gaster turned away, leaving him alone in their room.

 

Though alone, he felt a tug at his soul, a feeling of hope. A feeling of cautious hope, that maybe…just maybe, they would get to be a family.

And maybe Dad would see it one day soon.

Going back to the table, he looked over his drawing. It was a beacon of hope, a goal. And he needed to not lose hope! He needed to not forget! In fact-!

Taking up the pen on the table, he wrote: Don’t Forget.

 

One day, he’d get through to him.

One day, he’d help him feel better.

One day, they could all be happy.

 

 

 

Papyrus huffed as he came to the supply, the lingering feelings of hope for the future infectious and seeming to overflow into the clerk behind the counter.

“Hey, Papyrus!” The cat monster smiled at him as he leaned on the counter. “Come to get the usual?”

“Yep!” He tossed his grocery sack onto the counter, stretching up onto his toes to better see the friendly monster. He went by “Tom” and he was one of the few monsters here that talked to him. Papyrus knew it was cause the monsters in white coats here were tired, but even so, Tom seemed friendly enough despite his weariness.

“All right, you got it, buddy.” He often called Papyrus “buddy” or “little buddy” and it always brightened his day. If it weren’t for the fact that Papyrus wasn’t allowed to be gone from his room very long without Sans, he might have come over to see Tom more. Sans had told him that Tom wasn’t “exactly a scientist” he told him he did a lot of the cleaning and stuff. He ran the supply depo too, passing out rations and making sure everybody got their supplies and clothes.

 

Papyrus thought it was commendable work, and he often told him so. Tom always got a kick out of that, and sometimes he’d sneak him a cinnabun, monster candy, or some other such sweet from the back.

 

Kind of like today! Tom came back carrying his bag, heavy with supplies. Placing it on the counter, he dramatically looked about, as if to make sure the coast was clear.

Papyrus was practically pulling himself on to the counter, dying to see what surprise Tom had for him.

 

Wiggling his eyebrows, he pulled out a donut from the bag, holding it out proudly to him. “Something special just for you, bud.” He winked and placed it back into the bag placing a finger to his lips with a wink.

 

Looking around slyly, Papyrus winked back to his friend, “Right! Thanks for the _supplies_.” Trying to make sure no one knew of his special secret treat inside the bag.

 

A wide grin wormed its way onto Tom’s face, and he chuckled. “See you next week!”

 

“Ok!” Papyrus grunted as he picked up the bag from the counter, hefting it along. “Thanks, Tom!” He called back.

 

“No problem!”

 

 

Papyrus huffed and puffed as he walk-ran his way to their room, determined to not let it touch the ground. Finally at the door, he plopped the bag down with a massive grunt. “Whoo…” Sweat beaded his skull, but Papyrus was ok with that, the bag was heavy after all, but he was getting stronger! He didn’t even drag it at all this time!

Unlocking the door, he made to go inside, when a loud cry made him whip around.

 

“PAPYRUS!” Tom came running down the hall, cell phone clutched in his hand. Papyrus didn’t have time to ask why he looked so upset, didn’t have time to ask what was wrong.

He didn’t need to know these things. All that mattered was what Tom said next:

“Sans is hurt!”

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

"Sans!" A voice that was not his screamed, cutting through his own rasping cries. He tried to look towards the sound of the voice, but the bone of his sockets had begun to melt over his eyes, a sickening feeling as he felt it slip into his skull.

 

He wanted to tell Papyrus to look away, he wanted to tell him to run, he wanted to tell him to get free somehow, anyhow. Get away, get out. But all that loosed from his mouth was horrendous shrieks as his body became lost to him, as it began to melt away into nothingness.

 

"SANS!" The familiar voice choked, hands lighting upon his arm. "B-BROTHER?! WHAT'S WRONG WITH HIM?! H-HIS BONES..." Papyrus sobbed, the sound somehow worse than the pain.

 

Sans tried to move, tried to reach out and hold the child, to tell him he was sorry. So, so sorry to make him feel such fear.

 

 

"WHAT ARE DOING?" His young brother yelled, "DON'T HURT HIM! DON'T YOU-"

Papyrus' scream made Sans' soul burn. A fire lit within him, and he felt it surge throughout. A beat started up, a horrible beat. A rhythm that set in motion a rage that made his skull ring. Pounding magic raced across his limp bones, pulling him back together under one single motive: protect.

 

 

With a gasp, he felt himself snap and pop, felt the melted pieces and parts come back together with sickening cracks.

 

He felt himself come back from the brink, the brink of what, Sans couldn't tell you. But he came to, his vision clear, and his eyes set on Gaster, hand wrapped about Papyrus' arm.

 

 

Papyrus looked up at Sans in horror and fear, a hand clasped over his mouth as tears streamed from his sockets.

 

Sans growled low, his magic burning in his bones, red pulsing from his frame. His sight was too sharp, smells too much, and the fire inside him far, _far_ too hot. A sound escaped his mouth, a noise both powerful and grotesque. He slipped from his gurney to the floor, his unstable body splattering before he righted himself, determination pushing him forward. Pushing him to one goal and one goal only.

 

Gaster still held Papyrus tight, forcing him back, dragging him away from Sans.

“LET ME GO! SANS!” He cried, wrestling in the other monster’s grasp.

 

Sans roared, feeling his frame crackling and squelching as he shifted and sifted. A surge of magic blasted him through, and he grinned. The broken corners of his mouth turning as he let that power come forth.

 

 

Reality tore at the seams as the great skulls of horrible beasts manifested. Great maws mimicked his grin as bright, glowing eyes held Gaster in their sights. They began to glow as they became overloaded with his determination, magic building in their mouths. Red dripped from their overflow, slicking upon the ground.

 

Gaster stood staring, frozen to the spot.

And Sans laughed.

The incredible Dr. W.D. Gaster looked so powerless, so helpless. Standing before him, his mouth hanging open in shock and awe, eyes wide, and body shaking as he back away, pressing to the wall. Terrified. Terrified of him. Terrified of Sans.

 

Now he knew what it was like. Now he knew what it felt like to be so vulnerable and small.

 

 

Sans grasped hold of Papyrus’ soul, wrenching the young skeleton from Gaster’s grasp, and whisking him off to the side. With Papyrus out of the way, there was nothing to stop him, nothing to hold him back. He loosed a cruel, gurgling, growl of a laugh.

 

He had him where he wanted him.

 

 

The maws of his weapons began to drip and dribble, their instability warping them, burning magic melting them where they floated at his sides.

He too, began to melt. Gentle plops of magic and bone falling wetly to the ground at his feet, making his footing slick and unsure. “ _bye, G.”_ He raised a drooping claw, willing his hatred behind it, directing the magic to fruition, ready to drag Gaster to hell along with him.

 

 

“DAD!”

Papyrus raced from the side, magic crackling along his palms, red bones shooting up from the ground to stand between Sans and the two monsters.

 

The small, brittle magic would not be enough to block the blast.

 

 

Sockets going wide, Sans quickly tried to call off his magic, but too late. The blasters began to charge, disintegrating as the charge ripped them apart.

Commanding forth all the magic he could muster in his soul, he tried to redirect the blast before-

 

 

A deafening roar split the air, blinding red light bursting like some incredible super-nova as the blasters fired. The air burned and the magic upon the ground sizzled as so great an attack tore through the labs.

“ _Papyrus!_ ” He screamed, his voice lost to the sound of melting metal, as everything in the path of the magic was utterly eviscerated.

 

And then, in the blink of an eye it was over. In the end, darkness and silence prevailed.

As for Sans, he could hardly keep himself conscious as his magic was drained, sucking the life from his soul. Cracking and crackling, the softness of his form went rigid as the DT locked up from the shift in magic. He spasmed and fell to the ground, blinking in and out of wakefulness.

 

Where Papyrus and Gaster had stood was nothing but a gigantic hole, the blast having rendered such a massive rift there.

“Pap.” He rasped as he felt wetness on his cheeks, though he wasn’t sure if it was tears or if he was really falling apart for good. His soul hurt in his chest, the crackles spreading from the strain to its too rigid magic. He was breaking up, falling apart, falling out. He could only hope that maybe, just maybe, wherever he was going…he would see Papyrus.

 

 

He blinked, his sockets not quite seeing correctly. Dots of red floated in his vision, bobbing and growing larger, coming closer and closer.

Eyes.

Red eyes, to be exact.

 

And they looked down on him with streaming tears, with terror, and sadness, and joy as well. Small, thin arms wrapped around him, and he gasped at the tug he felt at his soul.

A warmth, a feeling he knew quite well, beat in his bones. In his soul. Sans felt his soul beat to the rhythm, felt it pulse and churn the marrow in his bones back to life. He gasped and clutched onto the monster that held him, feeling a familiar, raggedy red cloth tickle at his nasal aperture. Though he screamed and cried in pain as his soul pulled him back together, Papyrus held him.

 

“I-I won’t l-leave you, brother.” Papyrus’ teeth chattered as he held him close, his soul beating hard, fluttering in his chest.

 

They stayed locked in their embrace for what felt like an eternity to Sans.

 

 

Everything was pain and warmth. Excruciating and wonderful. He felt things he’d never thought possible as they held each other. Such caring and kindness, such incredible love.

 

Papyrus whispered against his skull, “Don’t go, Sans. I-I love you, please. Please, don’t leave me.”

 

 

It was the last he heard, the last that he could recall from that night.

 

 

 

 

 

He woke with a start, gasping as he sat up in bed, only to regret the harsh movement. Wincing, he clasped a hand to his socket, the pain behind it like some horrendous creature gnawing at the magic within. “f-fuck-”

 

“Sans?”

He looked down in surprise at the voice so close, only to see Papyrus curled up under the covers beside him, sockets dark and lined red. He looked like he’d been up crying all night. “Are you ok? Do you need anything, brother?” The small skeleton sat up in bed, looking Sans over with concern.

 

Sans gave him a small smile, trying to cover up the pounding in his skull. “i’m fine, bro.” While he did ache something awful, he felt pretty good considering he had just gone through a DT injection. In fact, he felt pretty great. Blinking the blur from his socket, he realized with a start that the headache had already gone.

Huh. What do ya know?

 

 

Papyrus crept forward, wrapping his arms around him, “Are you sure?”

 

Cuddling back in to the covers, he turned over on his side to look Papyrus in the eyes. “yeah, i’m _sans_ -tastic.”

 

Papyrus made a face, trying to keep from laughing. “S-Sans! This is serious!”

 

“heh heh,” He laughed, giving Papyrus a sidelong glance as his grin widened, “i was trying to not _tibia_ liar.”

The skeleton beside him snorted, a smile twitching at his teeth before he gave in with a laugh. “Nyeh heh heh! Sans! That was awful!”

 

“huh, you seemed to find it _humerus._ ”

 

 

They laughed and talked, staying close and enjoying each other’s company. It was one of the best things in Sans’ life. Something so simple and innocent. Just being brothers, just being able to be happy and silly with whispered words and stifled giggles.

 

And Sans would have wanted things to stay that way for as long as they could, but this was a day that he’d remember for another reason, too.

 

 

 

A knock upon their door made them both jump, and before Sans could stop him, Papyrus called out, “Come in!”

The door opened after the click of the lock sounded, and in stepped someone that Sans would rather have not seen so soon.

 

There stood Gaster, a few books in his arms, and a bag of groceries in the other.  Sockets dark, and drooping with innumerable nights of no sleep, he swayed slightly as he stood. The smell of alcohol was on the air, and looking at Gaster’s disheveled attire, it was pretty obvious he’d hit the bottle.

He knew he was a mess, too. After a quick, embarrassed nod to the two of them, he went over to their kitchen and placed the bag down. He looked about the room with glazed confusion, seeming uncertain of where to put the books, and eventually settled on placing them on their kitchen table.

Coming back over, he took a steadying breath. Gaster straightened himself out as best he could and signed, **I see you are doing better?**

Sans looked down at Papyrus, and thought maybe it best to keep the conversation between he and Gaster private. Sitting up in bed with a few snaps and pops of protest from his bones, he signed, **yeah, i am.**

**Good.** Gaster pursed his mouth, seeming like he wanted to say more, his hands fluttering lightly before settling into a silent steeple at his chest.

 

 

Papyrus shifted against him, sitting forward to look over at Gaster. He waved at him, a careful smile on his skull.  

 

Gaster, to Sans’ surprise, gave a tentative little wave back. He himself seemed confused that he had done so. He ran a hand over his skull, a look of nervousness plain on his face.

Which Sans did _not_ like.

 

The air was thick with tension and awkwardness. It was suffocating, and Sans didn’t feel like being subjected to more shit than he already had been. **what do you want, G?** He cut straight to the point.

Gaster wringed his hands and knotted his fingers as he did sometimes when he was nervous. **There is…something I need to tell you. Tell you both.**

**whatever it is, you can tell _me_. ** Sans held Gaster’s gaze, his soul burning in his chest with anger. What the fuck did he want? How fucking dare he think he can pull Papyrus into this? Sans wasn’t about to let that shit go down.

 

 

Gaster wrung his hands, silent in his uncertainty, before he signed, **You…I…** Gaster began to sign more, but his hands were unsteady and Sans couldn’t make out what he was trying to say. Gaster seemed to change his mind, loosing a sigh. **You get the day off.**

Sans balked as Gaster made towards the door, his mission accomplished apparently. “what? that’s it? _that’s_ what that was all about?” He growled, “i get the fucking day off? why the hell did you really come over here, G? i know you could’ve just sent a note!”

Gaster paused at the door, not turning to look at them, not moving.

 

Sans sat waiting, his soul pounding. There was something more to this, but what? Gaster didn’t just _do_ shit. He was a planner. A schemer.

No, there was something more to this. He could feel it in his bones.

 

The scientist opened the door, though before he went through it for the last time, he said, **Goodbye.**

 

 

 

Sans and Papyrus had been brought fully awake from the strange encounter.

 

They talked for a while, trying to piece it apart, but neither one of them could have prepared for what was to happen.

 

Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, he began to get to his feet with the help of Papyrus.

“Be careful, Sans.” Papyrus warned, letting him put his weight on his shoulders.

 

“i will, Pap.” He had decided to go find Gaster. Hunt the asshole down and make him tell them what the fuck was going on. He hadn’t liked that whole encounter, and it weighed heavily in the pit of his soul.

 

They walked together, down the long hallways, feet echoing down the otherwise quiet stretch. The lights buzzed overhead, the only other sound outside themselves.

“Everything is so quiet.” Papyrus whispered, his hand clutching at Sans arm in worry. “Where is everyone?”

 

Sans felt a chill run up his spine, while the scientists kept to themselves, you always heard the murmur of voices, the running of machines, the distant tapping of feet.

But there was nothing.

 

They wandered for some time, until they saw one of the head scientists, whom Sans did not know the name of, rush by. Coat whirling out behind them, they ran down the hall, heading to the Core.

 

And the two brothers followed. Fear fueling him, Sans picked up his pace, before long he didn’t even need Papyrus’ support, and in fact, pulled him along after him. “Sans?” Papyrus called out from behind, sounding just as afraid as he felt. “What’s happening?”

 

“i don’t know.” And he didn’t. And to this day, he still had trouble grasping it. For when that door opened and when they stepped out to face the incredible structure of magic and science, it would change their lives forever.

 

 

Gaster stood on the precipice of the Core, overlooking the churning and sparking magic within.

 

Other scientists stood by, trying to coerce him from the edge. “Gaster, come back!” “This is insane!” “Why are you doing this?” “Talk to us, doctor!”

 

His closest peers, his assistants, his followers, they lingered at his back, afraid to come to close, afraid of making him fall. They pleaded to him, begged him, but he did not turn back.

 

“DAD!”

Gaster turned at the sound of Papyrus’ voice. He turned, and he looked at them.

He turned, and he looked at Sans. Held his gaze.

 

And let go.

 

 

“ _DAD!_ ” “ _Gaster!_ ” The two skeleton’s cried, rushing forward just like everyone else. Foolishly.

 

 

There was a flash of light, and then an earth-shattering sound.

For a moment, the world seemed to distort, like static on a screen, ripping and tearing at the edges.

Sans shielded Papyrus, hunching over him as the magic arched and crashed down, the core absorbing Gaster’s broken soul and determination.

 

Sans screamed as the static built, building behind his sockets, warping inside his skull. He saw flashes of images before his eyes: a door, surrounded by snow. A flower with a face. A bright light. Red splattering a garden of golden flowers. The glint of a knife. A red cloth, coated in dust, fluttering in the wind.

 

A dark void, a pale face stretched in a permanent smile.

 

 

He gasped awake.

Sans pressed a hand to his brow, sweat pouring from his skull, a still lingering sound like static on the edges of his conscious.

 

Looking around, he could only feel confusion.

What was he doing at the Core? He made to stand, to figure out what had happened, when he felt a weight on his lap.

There lie Papyrus, out cold.

 

What? Why were they both-

Yet, as he sat there, his memories came back full force. Monsters screaming, rushing forward, trying to grab for… Something?

 

 

Sans rubbed at his skull, his socket hurting like a bitch.

Getting up from the ground, he picked Papyrus up and carried him back to their room. He looked very tired, worry knit on his skull even as he slept.

Another nightmare, most likely.

 

 

Laying Papyrus in his bed and tucking him in, he then went over and flopped on to his own, letting blissful sleep take him.

 

 

Darkness lie all around him.

No field of stars to guide him, no small presence at his side for company.

Just blackness.

 

It was chilly here, it was lonely here, it was deafeningly silent.

 

He wandered in this odd dreamscape, finding nothing, nothing, and more nothing.

 

The silence became suddenly very loud, and Sans realized with a start that it was not silence, but the sound of static. It had begun so faintly, so quietly, building into a roar.

From the mess of blackness, a shape arose. A swirling, distorting, unstable mass. It warped and willowed, stretching and spanning.

 

Sans screamed. He screamed and ran, he raced into the dark, trying to get away, trying to wake himself up, screaming and running all the while in his skull like a rodent in a wheel.

No matter where he went, it always led back to that pulsing mass, that slowly forming thing.

 

Realizing it was hopeless, he stood, staring at what he was meant to see.

 

Grotesque appendages splashed onto the ground, hauling forth what appeared to be a head, crowning from the inky ooze. The darkness slouched from off the form, plopping to the ground with sick, wet slaps. And there, in the darkness, peered a pale, marred face.

 

Twisting and twitching, the face began to melt, the arms that had pulled it kicking and screaming into existence falling apart, sinking and melting back into the ink from which it was born.

 

A blasting of static echoed out from the creature as its skull began to cave in on itself to pour onto the ground. Just as it began to all but disappear back into the black, white hands shot out from the muck to sign,

**SANS.**

 

His sockets flashed open, his memories coming back to him full force, straining at his skull, and he clutched it for fear of it cracking open. Taking gulping breaths, he let the memories come. A monster that sat him on his lap, reading to him. Teaching him how to speak, how to count. A rare smile breaking through every so often as Sans did something well. Letting him sit on the counter while he worked, scolding him for smacking his heels against the cabinets. The sound of his voice, from so very long ago, before the accident. Strong, yet quiet, the purposeful monotone always oddly soothing and yet commanding. The stench of alcohol on his breath as he tried to dull the pain and stress. The odd times where he would hold Sans close, trying to help Sans calm before a test, or comfort him after his hurt.

 

The pain.

The fear.

The horrors.

 

They all came back to greet him. All to the sound of static.

 

And then, in the silence, he could see Gaster, clear as day. See him standing on the edge of the Core. See the fear and determination in his eyes. See the way his brow pinched, the way his sockets glinted wetly.

 

Sans could still see him, as he let go of that rail. As he fell into the Core, ripped apart by his own creation.

 

All those who were faithful had gotten too close, the blast of magic tearing them from existence in a flash of bright light.

 

Sans himself had felt the coursing of the magic, had shielded Papyrus, had taken most of it himself.

 

 

But they were alive.

 

They were alive in a lab where all the scientists had suddenly and inexplicably disappeared.

Getting to his feet, he grabbed bags from a nearby drawer and began stuffing them with food, clothing, and anything he could think to be useful.

 

Papyrus woke up from the clatter, clutching a hand to his skull. “O-owie…Sans, what’s going on? My head hurts…”

 

Sans called over his shoulder, “i know, Pap. mine does too.” Stuffing more food into the nearly full bags, he tried to think what else they might bring with them.

 

“What are you doing? Why are you putting our stuff in bags?” Papyrus had come over to inspect the bags, cocking his head curiously. “Are we going somewhere?”

 

Sighing, he tried to keep patient. Papyrus was too young to really understand the implications of their situation. Too young to understand how bad it looked that they, test subjects of this facility, were the only ones left here. How would they explain that to the guards when they came looking once no one heard from Gaster? Who would listen to them? The situation looked sketchy as fuck to _Sans,_ he could only imagine what someone on the outside must think…

 

Outside.

 

Running a hand atop his skull, he took a breath, trying to push down his nerves. They were going to leave. To go outside.

 

For the first time in their lives.

 

 

“hey, Pap?” He smiled back at Papyrus, trying to ground himself, knowing that what he was about to say would light up the little guy’s world. “ya wanna go outside?”

 

The way those big red eyes sparkled and the gasping smile that stretched his skull was enough to banish the ill from Sans’ soul.

“REALLY?!” Papyrus cried, racing forward to grasp at Sans’ arm, bouncing on his heels. “ARE YOU SERIOUS?”

 

Handing Papyrus a less-heavy bag, he tucked his favorite book into it. He was not about to leave it behind. Picking up his own bags, he hefted them onto his back. “yep. c’mon, bro.”

 

 

The little skeleton grabbed hold of his hand, and together the two brothers made their way into their new life.

What would await them?

Who would they meet?

Would they be ok?

 

All these questions and more buzzed in his skull. But as they reached the door, and as they felt the scorching air of Hotland lick at their bones, their souls beat with excitement.

“Wowie!” Papyrus whispered under his breath, taking in all that lie out before them, a great big adventure waiting to be undertaken.

 

Questions and questions, worries and worries still lie in his skull. The hand that gripped on to his own made that ok, though.

As long as he had Papyrus, and as long as Papyrus had Sans, they would be ok.

 

 


End file.
